2021: ACQUIESCENCE DIPLOMACY - THE SILENT BLESSING THE BROUGHT DOWN THE IRON CURTAIN
I had the most fun making this documentary short because I heavily relied on the use of multimedia throughout the project. I incorporated the contemporary popular music of the era into the project (David Bowie, The Scorpions, Alphaville) and created all of my illustrations of the Berlin Wall myself in PhotoShop, layering the images and messages of the times in a visual, graphic manner. This is most definitely the direction I want to take: planting my historical content in a richly layered background that reaches a number of the audience's senses: the visual field and hearing. Since 90's Berlin had a rich, vibrant and unique cultural scene, I wanted to break from the drier. matter-of-factly presentation of historical documentaries in favor of something more widely relatable and palatable. Our 21st century audience deserve to be treated to a more immersive way of getting information and music and art need to be incorporated into our delivery of information.
2020: The Tereshkova Effect - Propaganda's role in breaking barriers
Once again, as soon as the theme was announced for National History Day ("Breaking Barriers"), I knew that I would want to make a documentary on Valentina Tereshkova's groundbreaking space flight. When I visited my favorite museum--the Smithsonian's National Air & Space Museum--the year before, I was shocked to see that the only reference to Valentina Tereshkova was a single 4"x6" photograph of all the cosmonauts. The caption merely stated that all of the cosmonauts were air force pilots, with the exception of Tereshkova. Growing up with a Hungarian mother and grandparents, I knew how deep Valentina's impact was on the Communist Bloc, so seeing a virtually negligible impact in the West was incongruous with what I already knew. I really wanted to memorialize her achievement.
In the process of making my documentary, I juxtaposed Valentina's society (the communist state) with America's society in 1963. I simply could not believe the jarring differences that women experienced, vis-a-vis their opportunities and social services available to them.
After winning first place at the national competition, the Library of Congress contacted me to let me know that they have secured copyrights protection for my work and that they accepted it into the Library of Congress's permanent collection. This news meant the world to me. If I accomplish nothing else in life, I feel great to have had the ability to leave a small stepping stone behind for future generations. (Of course, I hope to have a long and productive life and offer many more contributions to our world ;-)
2019: Pax pygmica - The triumph and tragedy of dag hammarskjöld's un secretariat
After my research experience during my previous year's documentary film, I learned about Dag Hammarskjöld's life and tragic death. I was on a mission to memorialize his legacy at the United Nations. This film is my homage to the man who lived and died to preserve world peace.
2018: Modus Vivendi - The financial Crisis created by the Suez Crisis
When I set out to tackle a documentary about the Suez Crisis, I knew nothing about the economic and financial crisis that this political event thrusted the world into. Admittedly, I felt overwhelmed by the technical details of the financial crisis. I found myself investing a lot of effort into quickly familiarizing myself with the new discipline of Finance and I asked one of the senior vice presidents at the local bank for his opinion. Eventually, when I did manage to wrap my brain around the subject, I felt like I got a present to reward me for my endurance.
2017: The 1956 Hungarian counter-revolution
As soon as National History Day announced the 2017 theme: Taking a Stand, I new that I would want to make a documentary on the 1956 Hungarian Counter-Revolution. I head story after story about the failed Hungarian uprise from my Hungarian mom, grandparents and family friends. Although the short-lived revolution was crushed by the Soviet Union 60 years earlier, the Hungarian nation kept the revolution's spirit and memory alive. This is the film that first forced me to make a tough decision: do I include my interview with my grandfather -- or leave the footage on the cutting room floor. In all these years, I have never seen my grandfather cry. His life was marred by tragedy; he just recently learned the devastating news that my grandmother had Alzheimer's Disease. Yet, he always did his best to put up a resolute front ... until this one time, when I asked him questions about the 1956 uprise.
As he recounted the consequences of the failed revolution and Soviet reprisals, he choked up and stopped. Talking about his cousins' summary execution in front of their mother's eyes, after the revolution's sup
pression, made him stop mid-sentence. His eyes welled up, and he could not pic up where he left off, from the tears in his eyes.
Ultimately, I chose not to include my grandfather's footage. It felt self-gratifying, even if my intentions were pure.
2016: Sputnik -- The Shock of the Century
The following year, I chose the early years of the Space Race for my documentary. I was heavily influenced by touring the Smithsonian's National Air & Space Museum when I went o DC during the previous year's national finals. I absolutely L-O-V-E-D the Air & Space Museum after spending two full days in it. [To this day, it's my favorite museum!] I am sure that it was this love that made this project even more fun than my Constantine documentary.
I figured it would be the greatest thing ever if I could interview Dr. Sergei Khrushchev, who was not only Nikita Khrushchev's son and confidant, but one of the leaders of the early Russian space program. To my shocking surprise, Dr. Khrushchev emailed me back when I reached out to him and agreed to my interviewing him. This was my first real taste of academia. Dr. Khrushchev not only made time for talking to me for an hour at a time, but he did this for years, ever since. He gave me his phone number so I could call him with questions at his house. This experience left the deepest, warmest impression on me. Here was a world-renowned expert who stopped to advise a child. A historian who gave me as much of his time as I wanted -- for absolutely nothing in return. There is nothing I can say that would come close to explaining the gift that Dr. Khrushchev gave me: the love of learning, the love of teaching others, and the duty of memorializing our history for the benefit of others. Rest in peace, Dr. Khrushchev.
2015: CONSTANTINE THE GREAT
I first fell in love with history in 6th grade. As part of our curriculum, our Social Studies teacher asked us to participate in National History Day. Although the contest rules allowed 5 distinctly different ways to enter the competition, our teacher asked for a paper written on the legacy of a leader from Ancient Greek, Egypt or Mesopotamia. Admittedly, I had no interest in writing a paper on anyone from the Antiquities. I asked my teacher if she would allow me to make a documentary instead. She agreed. Then, I stretched my luck by asking if I could pick Constantine the Great, instead of an earlier leader. She agreed, once again, but that was her last concession.
Despite the fact that Constantine had only one surviving partial sculpture of his likeness--but, obviously, no photographs or video images, I had the greatest time making my documentary. I loved the process and loved the end result. I was all of 11 years of age, I had very little resources, and I was completely oblivious to the limitations of my skills. Looking back, I am embarrassed to admit that this film was powered by nothing more than my research and the boundless enthusiasm of my 11-year-old self.
After the regional contest, one of the judges, University of Hawaii Professor Craig Howes told me--in the most diplomatic and positive way I have ever heard anyone offer advice--that he does not recommend making video documentaries about "pre-20th century subjects, let alone a guy who only has one surviving image in his likeness," but that I could benefit from using the "Ken Burns Effect." I have never heard of Ken Burns or his effects. That day, my main goal was to make it home without forgetting Professor Howes's words, so I could google what he referenced. [A couple of years later, I ran into Professor Howes at another NHD competition, and I was happy to report back that following his advice and incorporating the Ken Burns effects into my documentaries have changed my game and -- in a sweet twist of fate, a few years later, I ended up winning the top prize form Ken Burns, himself, for my documentary on Valentina Tereshkova at one of the national film festivals.]